ARTISTS 2 WATCH: Zodiacs on the wing
Graphic by Cate Banks
By Nel Blinman
Disclosure: Though I did reach out for an interview, I was unable to speak with them, and therefore I cannot confirm their name or pronouns. For now, I will refer to the artist as Zodiacs on the Wing, and use they-series pronouns.
One fateful day, prior to boarding what was to be a dreadfully long ride on the Red Line, I was scrolling through TikTok haphazardly — only sort of paying attention to the highly-curated content presented to me. Then something caught my eye. Or my ear. Maybe both. An album cover: black, with a two-headed animal of indecipherable species. Pitiful. Decrepit. Cursed. Beautiful. And a song played… “Whiskers and fangz feel different to you/I don’t feel sad unless you are too…” MEOW. In love. Originally posted by the user @vampiric.prairecat, it has since been moved to the account @assinum, under the artist name Zodiacs on the wing. The original post stated that the full album, entitled Never online (2023), was available on YouTube. I looked it up: 58 minutes and 31 seconds. Perfect for a grating ride on the T. With my phone at a risky 32%, I pressed play.
Suddenly I was no longer on the train. I was standing on a cliffside, toes hanging over the edge, a storm of wind and fire brewing in the distance as my metaphysical spine was ripped from my body, licked clean, and replaced. In the least morbid way possible.
I’ll start off by saying that I don’t think this album is for everyone. It’s a vertice on the linear plane between folk and angsty techno: avant folk, with a splash of whimsy, grunge, and…chthonic chanting. Some of the people I show it to immediately recoil with a swirled visage of concern and overwhelm. Some get it. And one does just have to get it. I think, though I do have some favorite standalone tracks, this album should be experienced altogether, as a kind of epic poem, rather than a splatter of individual pieces. Though the artist is now on Spotify (with 69 monthly listeners as of October 2023), I feel that it really should be experienced as I had originally listened to it: a YouTube video flowing seamlessly from track-to-track, forcing my hand at a cohesive listen. It meanders through peace, then rage, then sadness, then yearning, back to rage. Angry acoustic guitar, animalistic screaming, and understated vocals. What more could you want?
I am really, really excited for this artist’s future. They play around with rhythm, mood, tone, and lyricism with an expert touch. In this album, I see the future of the folk genre, as it moves away from tradition and toward absurdity and distortion. I almost don’t want to share the album (gatekeeper gatekeeper!) because I feel such a deep connection to it. But I also think that Zodiacs deserves ample recognition for a creation unlike anything I’ve heard before. It creeps up on Salvia Palth and Fox Academy, but like the ocean, recedes into itself and returns anew.
Start with: Listen to the entire album. In order. But if you really can’t, at least play these tracks: “The sea,” “Zero heat-death,” “stickiness,” and “Love you so much (original song 2:15 by daisuke tabari.” That last one has the sweetest vocals I’ve heard, probably ever.
I recommend this artist to: trans-femmes who game, girls with spiky leg hair, all the lonely people, sad furries, those who love their cats, anyone who has ever screamed and punched a wall, ocean-luvrs, and young adults who cry their way through summertime.
I don’t recommend this artist to: the general hetero, fans of straight lines, those who touch grass with some frequency, people who regularly shop at Target (without stealing), and finance bros.
Listen to this: in Ireland, on a plane, laying in damp grass at night, in an abandoned asylum surrounded by candles, while exploring your tortured immortal soul, sitting in the snow on Christmas Eve, or in the corner at a party (they don’t know you’re listening to Zodiacs on the Wing).
KEEP AN EAR OUT!